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Good sir, beware, no mention of the rabbins.

  MAM. We think not on 'em.

  [EXEUNT MAM. AND DOL.]

  FACE. O, it is well, sir.—Subtle!
  [ENTER SUBTLE.]
  Dost thou not laugh?

  SUB. Yes; are they gone?

  FACE. All's clear.

  SUB. The widow is come.

  FACE. And your quarrelling disciple?

  SUB. Ay.

  FACE. I must to my captainship again then.

  SUB. Stay, bring them in first.

  FACE. So I meant. What is she?
  A bonnibel?

  SUB. I know not.

  FACE. We'll draw lots:
  You'll stand to that?

  SUB. What else?

  FACE. O, for a suit,
  To fall now like a curtain, flap!

  SUB. To the door, man.

  FACE. You'll have the first kiss, 'cause I am not ready.

  [EXIT.]

  SUB. Yes, and perhaps hit you through both the nostrils.

  FACE [WITHIN]. Who would you speak with?

  KAS [WITHIN]. Where's the captain?

  FACE [WITHIN]. Gone, sir,
  About some business.

  KAS [WITHIN]. Gone!

  FACE [WITHIN]. He'll return straight.
  But master doctor, his lieutenant, is here.

  [ENTER KASTRIL, FOLLOWED BY DAME PLIANT.]

  SUB. Come near, my worshipful boy, my terrae fili,
  That is, my boy of land; make thy approaches:
  Welcome; I know thy lusts, and thy desires,
  And I will serve and satisfy them. Begin,
  Charge me from thence, or thence, or in this line;
  Here is my centre: ground thy quarrel.

  KAS. You lie.

  SUB. How, child of wrath and anger! the loud lie?
  For what, my sudden boy?

  KAS. Nay, that look you to,
  I am afore-hand.

  SUB. O, this is no true grammar,
  And as ill logic! You must render causes, child,
  Your first and second intentions, know your canons
  And your divisions, moods, degrees, and differences,
  Your predicaments, substance, and accident,
  Series, extern and intern, with their causes,
  Efficient, material, formal, final,
  And have your elements perfect.

  KAS [ASIDE]. What is this?
  The angry tongue he talks in?

  SUB. That false precept,
  Of being afore-hand, has deceived a number,
  And made them enter quarrels, often-times,
  Before they were aware; and afterward,
  Against their wills.

  KAS. How must I do then, sir?

  SUB. I cry this lady mercy: she should first
  Have been saluted.
  [KISSES HER.]
  I do call you lady,
  Because you are to be one, ere't be long,
  My soft and buxom widow.

  KAS. Is she, i'faith?

  SUB. Yes, or my art is an egregious liar.

  KAS. How know you?

  SUB. By inspection on her forehead,
  And subtlety of her lip, which must be tasted
  Often to make a judgment.
  [KISSES HER AGAIN.]
  'Slight, she melts
  Like a myrobolane:—here is yet a line,
  In rivo frontis, tells me he is no knight.

  DAME P. What is he then, sir?

  SUB. Let me see your hand.
  O, your linea fortunae makes it plain;
  And stella here in monte Veneris.
  But, most of all, junctura annularis.
  He is a soldier, or a man of art, lady,
  But shall have some great honour shortly.

  DAME P. Brother,
  He's a rare man, believe me!

  [RE-ENTER FACE, IN HIS UNIFORM.]

  KAS. Hold your peace.
  Here comes the t'other rare man.—'Save you, captain.

  FACE. Good master Kastril! Is this your sister?

  KAS. Ay, sir.
  Please you to kuss her, and be proud to know her.

  FACE. I shall be proud to know you, lady.

  [KISSES HER.]

  DAME P. Brother,
  He calls me lady too.

  KAS. Ay, peace: I heard it.

  [TAKES HER ASIDE.]

  FACE. The count is come.

  SUB. Where is he?

  FACE. At the door.

  SUB. Why, you must entertain him.

  FACE. What will you do
  With these the while?

  SUB. Why, have them up, and shew them
  Some fustian book, or the dark glass.

  FACE. 'Fore God,
  She is a delicate dab-chick! I must have her.

  [EXIT.]

  SUB. Must you! ay, if your fortune will, you must.—
  Come, sir, the captain will come to us presently:
  I'll have you to my chamber of demonstrations,
  Where I will shew you both the grammar and logic,
  And rhetoric of quarrelling; my whole method
  Drawn out in tables; and my instrument,
  That hath the several scales upon't, shall make you
  Able to quarrel at a straw's-breadth by moon-light.
  And, lady, I'll have you look in a glass,
  Some half an hour, but to clear your eye-sight,
  Against you see your fortune; which is greater,
  Than I may judge upon the sudden, trust me.

  [EXIT, FOLLOWED BY KAST. AND DAME P.]

  [RE-ENTER FACE.]

  FACE. Where are you, doctor?

  SUB [WITHIN]. I'll come to you presently.

  FACE. I will have this same widow, now I have seen her,
  On any composition.

  [RE-ENTER SUBTLE.]

  SUB. What do you say?

  FACE. Have you disposed of them?

  SUB. I have sent them up.

  FACE. Subtle, in troth, I needs must have this widow.

  SUB. Is that the matter?

  FACE. Nay, but hear me.

  SUB. Go to.
  If you rebel once, Dol shall know it all:
  Therefore be quiet, and obey your chance.

  FACE. Nay, thou art so violent now—Do but conceive,
  Thou art old, and canst not serve—

  SUB. Who cannot? I?
  'Slight, I will serve her with thee, for a—

  FACE. Nay,
  But understand: I'll give you composition.

  SUB. I will not treat with thee; what! sell my fortune?
  'Tis better than my birth-right. Do not murmur:
  Win her, and carry her. If you grumble, Dol
  Knows it directly.

  FACE. Well, sir, I am silent.
  Will you go help to fetch in Don in state?

  [EXIT.]

  SUB. I follow you, sir. We must keep Face in awe,
  Or he will over-look us like a tyrant.
  [RE-ENTER FACE, INTRODUCING SURLY DISGUISED AS A SPANIARD.]
  Brain of a tailor! who comes here? Don John!

  SUR. Senores, beso las manos a vuestras mercedes.

  SUB. Would you had stoop'd a little, and kist our anos!

  FACE. Peace, Subtle.

  SUB. Stab me; I shall never hold, man.
  He looks in that deep ruff like a head in a platter,
  Serv'd in by a short cloke upon two trestles.

  FACE. Or, what do you say to a collar of brawn, cut down
  Beneath the souse, and wriggled with a knife?

  SUB. 'Slud, he does look too fat to be a Spaniard.

  FACE. Perhaps some Fleming or some Hollander got him
  In d'Alva's time; count Egmont's bastard.

  SUB. Don,
  Your scurvy, yellow, Madrid face is welcome.

  SUR. Gratia.

  SUB. He speaks out of a fortification.
  Pray God he have no squibs in those deep sets.

  SUR. Por dios, senores, muy linda casa!

  SUB. What says he?

  FACE. Praises the house, I think;
  I know no more but's action.

  SUB. Yes, the casa,
  My precious Diego, will prove fair enough
  To cozen you in. Do you mark? you shall
  Be cozen'd, Diego.

  FACE. Cozen'd, do you see,
  My worthy Donzel, cozen'd.

  SUR. Entiendo.

  SUB. Do you intend it? so do we, dear Don.
  Have you brought pistolets, or portagues,
  My solemn Don?—Dost thou feel any?

  FACE [FEELS HIS POCKETS]. Full.

  SUB. You shall be emptied, Don, pumped and drawn
  Dry, as they say.

  FACE. Milked, in troth, sweet Don.

  SUB. See all the monsters; the great lion of all, Don.

  SUR. Con licencia, se puede ver a esta senora?

  SUB. What talks he now?

  FACE. Of the sennora.

  SUB. O, Don,
  This is the lioness, which you shall see
  Also, my Don.

  FACE. 'Slid, Subtle, how shall we do?

  SUB. For what?

  FACE. Why Dol's employ'd, you know.

  SUB. That's true.
  'Fore heaven, I know not: he must stay, that's all.

  FACE. Stay! that he must not by no means.

  SUB. No! why?

  FACE. Unless you'll mar all. 'Slight, he will suspect it:
  And then he will not pay, not half so well.
  This is a travelled punk-master, and does know
  All the delays; a notable hot rascal,
  And looks already rampant.

  SUB. 'Sdeath, and Mammon
  Must not be troubled.

  FACE. Mammon! in no case.

  SUB. What shall we do then?

  FACE. Think: you must be sudden.

  SUR. Entiendo que la senora es tan hermosa, que codicio tan
  verla, como la bien aventuranza de mi vida.

  FACE. Mi vida! 'Slid, Subtle, he puts me in mind of the widow.
  What dost thou say to draw her to it, ha!
  And tell her 'tis her fortune? all our venture
  Now lies upon't. It is but one man more,
  Which of us chance to have her: and beside,
  There is no maidenhead to be fear'd or lost.
  What dost thou think on't, Subtle?

  SUB. Who? I? why—

  FACE. The credit of our house too is engaged.

  SUB. You made me an offer for my share erewhile.
  What wilt thou give me, i'faith?

  FACE. O, by that light
  I'll not buy now: You know your doom to me.
  E'en take your lot, obey your chance, sir; win her,
  And wear her out, for me.

  SUB. 'Slight, I'll not work her then.

  FACE. It is the common cause; therefore bethink you.
  Dol else must know it, as you said.

  SUB. I care not.

  SUR. Senores, porque se tarda tanto?

  SUB. Faith, I am not fit, I am old.

  FACE. That's now no reason, sir.

  SUR. Puede ser de hazer burla de mi amor?

  FACE. You hear the Don too? by this air, I call,
  And loose the hinges: Dol!

  SUB. A plague of hell—

  FACE. Will you then do?

  SUB. You are a terrible rogue!
  I'll think of this: will you, sir, call the widow?

  FACE. Yes, and I'll take her too with all her faults,
  Now I do think on't better.

  SUB. With all my heart, sir;
  Am I discharged o' the lot?

  FACE. As you please.

  SUB. Hands.

  [THEY TAKE HANDS.]

  FACE. Remember now, that upon any change,
  You never claim her.

  SUB. Much good joy, and health to you, sir,
  Marry a whore! fate, let me wed a witch first.

  SUR. Por estas honradas barbas—

  SUB. He swears by his beard.
  Dispatch, and call the brother too.

  [EXIT FACE.]

  SUR. Tengo duda, senores, que no me hagan alguna traycion.

  SUB. How, issue on? yes, praesto, sennor. Please you
  Enthratha the chambrata, worthy don:
  Where if you please the fates, in your bathada,
  You shall be soked, and stroked, and tubb'd and rubb'd,
  And scrubb'd, and fubb'd, dear don, before you go.
  You shall in faith, my scurvy baboon don,
  Be curried, claw'd, and flaw'd, and taw'd, indeed.
  I will the heartlier go about it now,
  And make the widow a punk so much the sooner,
  To be revenged on this impetuous Face:
  The quickly doing of it is the grace.

  [EXEUNT SUB. AND SURLY.]
  SCENE 4.2.

  ANOTHER ROOM IN THE SAME.

  ENTER FACE, KASTRIL, AND DAME PLIANT.

  FACE. Come, lady: I knew the Doctor would not leave,
  Till he had found the very nick of her fortune.

  KAS. To be a countess, say you, a Spanish countess, sir?

  DAME P. Why, is that better than an English countess?

  FACE. Better! 'Slight, make you that a question, lady?

  KAS. Nay, she is a fool, captain, you must pardon her.

  FACE. Ask from your courtier, to your inns-of-court-man,
  To your mere milliner; they will tell you all,
  Your Spanish gennet is the best horse; your Spanish
  Stoup is the best garb; your Spanish beard
  Is the best cut; your Spanish ruffs are the best
  Wear; your Spanish pavin the best dance;
  Your Spanish titillation in a glove
  The best perfume: and for your Spanish pike,
  And Spanish blade, let your poor captain speak—
  Here comes the doctor.

  [ENTER SUBTLE, WITH A PAPER.]

  SUB. My most honour'd lady,
  For so I am now to style you, having found
  By this my scheme, you are to undergo
  An honourable fortune, very shortly.
  What will you say now, if some—

  FACE. I have told her all, sir,
  And her right worshipful brother here, that she shall be
  A countess; do not delay them, sir; a Spanish countess.

  SUB. Still, my scarce-worshipful captain, you can keep
  No secret! Well, since he has told you, madam,
  Do you forgive him, and I do.

  KAS. She shall do that, sir;
  I'll look to it, 'tis
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